


When Morning Breaks

by MarvelousMenagerie (HiddenOne)



Series: 2018 MCU Kink Bingo [10]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Cheating, Drunk Sex, Feelings, M/M, Minor Steve/Sharon, Past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Somnophilia, Stony breakup, Winteriron endgame, dub-con, no powers au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 21:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16773520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenOne/pseuds/MarvelousMenagerie
Summary: Tony should’ve known, though. He really should’ve known where Bucky’s loyalty was going to lie in the end. Still, Bucky’s betrayal hurts almost as much as finally getting confirmation that Steve cheated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the MCU Kink Bingo square 'somnophilia.' (Dub-con due to the nature of that kink) & Winteriron Bingo square 'secrets.'
> 
> Many thanks to the cheer-readers who dealt with my massive insecurity over this fic! Rebelmeg, Skye, and Faustess, I really appreciated the helpful comments.

A gust of wind has Tony shivering. He tucks himself into Steve’s side, burrowing into Steve’s warmth.

Steve laughs. “I told you. You should’ve worn your winter coat.”

“Why, when you’re right here to warm me up?” Tony asks, smiling up at Steve.

Tony watches Steve roll his eyes, but then Steve gives him a fond smile. Tony grins, liking the bright pink color on Steve’s nose.

Tony takes a sip of his coffee. He’s slow to drink from the cup so that it stays warm for the sake of his fingers.

Ahead of them, a blonde woman walks out of a bookshop, paper bag in hand.

“Sharon?” Tony calls out.

The blonde woman turns, and her face lights up.

“Tony!” Sharon returns, approaching them. She juggles her bag for a moment so she has a free hand to reach out and give Tony a one-armed hug, which Tony accepts.

Tony pulls back with a delighted grin. “Out shopping? Anything for me?”

“Oh please, like I bother getting you Christmas presents anymore,” Sharon says with a laugh. “If you don’t come to the parties, you don’t get the gifts.”

“Aw,” Tony teases. Then Tony turns to Steve.

“Steve, this is Sharon. Sharon, this is -” Tony starts to introduce.

“Steve,” Sharon interrupts with a warm smile for Steve. “Good to see you again.”

Steve coughs, and his hand still around Tony’s waist clutches Tony tightly. “You too,” Steve replies.

“I consulted on one of Steve’s projects,” Sharon explains to Tony, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Awhile back,” she adds on.

“Oh fun!” Tony says, even as he tries to figure out what happened to Sharon’s face. It’s more guarded, less delighted, then a second ago. “Steve, you should’ve said something. Sharon’s my cousin!”

“Cousin?” Steve asks, eyes wide with surprise.

“Tony, please,” Sharon says with a laugh, but shakes her head at Steve.

“Sort of cousins,” Tony corrects, smiling. Steve stands rigid at Tony’s side, and part of Tony’s mind dwells on it while he explains. “Not actually, I suppose. Family friends that used to get together enough that it felt like we were cousins.”

“I’d let you claim it if you still came to get-togethers,” Sharon explains. “But wow, what a small world! I didn’t know you two were together.”

“Maybe I’ll finally show up this Christmas and bring Steve with me,” Tony says. Steve lets go of Tony’s waist then, and Tony looks up at him with concern. “But don’t hold your breath,” he tosses at Sharon with a wink.

“I never do, though I would certainly appreciate your presence. We’re more civil than we used to be, you know.”

“That’s because I’m _not_ there,” Tony replies.

Sharon laughs. “Well I’d better keep shopping. Good to see you, Tony. Steve,” she says with a nod at him. “I’ll hope to see you both in a few weeks then. It’s the 20th,” she directs at Steve with a polite smile. “Don’t let Tony fool you with a date mix-up.”

“Noted,” Steve says with a nod, looking at Tony rather than at Sharon.

“Good to see you,” Tony replies, and with a final wave they part ways.

“What project did you work on with Sharon?” Tony asks as they continue down the street. Tony tucks himself back into Steve’s side, but Steve’s arm is limp across Tony’s shoulders rather than pulling Tony in as before.

“Oh? Um… it was all those PR pieces for the local force. Couldn’t design them a new logo, of course, but we did what we could. It was a while back.”

Tony hums at the reply, looking up at Steve with the concern. “Not good memories?”

Steve winces. “Not really. Not - not because of Sharon, or anything, or not with working with her, I mean -”

Tony breaks the awkwardness with a laugh. “I won’t say anything. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, giving Tony a tight smile before they continue on.

Tony bites his lip and takes a sip of his still hot coffee to warm the cold parts of his throat.

The problem is that Tony’s brain doesn’t stop working, not really. It’s a great benefit for his engineering projects at his father’s company because usually Tony’s brain is constantly turning over and analyzing a relevant problem. He’s solved a number of work-related issues in the shower or right before he falls asleep or sometimes while staring into his coffee cup on weekend mornings. His brain is constantly working.

But really the problem is that Steve doesn’t stop being weird. Tony could buy that it’s weird to run into an ex-colleague - or whatever Steve and Sharon are - out during the normal day, that it might throw someone off. Still, though. It’s not that weird, right?

Steve is withdrawn and quiet at dinner, and Tony rambles to make up for the silence. That night Steve is the opposite, pulling Tony close and whispering platitudes all while kissing Tony quiet. 

It bothers Tony, is what it does. And Tony’s brain just won’t let it go.

And maybe if Sharon wasn’t Sharon - beautiful, blonde, self-assured, and brilliant - Tony wouldn’t be having these thoughts. He wouldn’t jump to conclusions. It could simply be that Steve didn’t like working with Sharon, maybe, and now it’s awkward because some of Steve’s rants were about someone Tony actually knew.

But there was something about Sharon’s smile when she saw Steve, before she took note of Steve’s hand on Tony’s waist, that slips into Tony’s mind whenever he tries to argue with himself.

“Is Steve cheating on me?” Tony finally blurts out.

His timing isn’t completely terrible. It’s just him and Bucky, with Steve having left earlier to join Sam at the basketball courts. Bucky is Steve’s best friend, all the way back from childhood, but Bucky had quickly become one of Tony’s best friends too. All three of them frequently hang out together, and neither Bucky - nor Tony - feels like an awkward third wheel.

Bucky winces, rubbing his face.

Tony freezes. The lack of instant, vehement denial means he already knows.

“He told you?”

A burst of strained laughter escapes Tony. “Fuck no, he didn’t. But you should have.”

And Bucky should have. Tony thought… Tony thought of Bucky as one of his good friends, one of his _best_ friends, irrespective of their connection to Steve. Other than Steve, Bucky is the one who Tony spends the most time with. They even hang out together on nights that Steve can’t, even.

Tony should’ve known, though. He really should’ve known where Bucky’s loyalty was going to lie in the end. Still, Bucky’s betrayal hurts almost as much as finally getting confirmation that Steve cheated.

“I told him he had to tell you,” Bucky says, voice rough. He looks at Tony with wide, sad eyes. “He promised it was over, that it was a mistake, that he’d never do it again. Tony, _please_.”

“Fuck you, Barnes,” Tony snaps as he leaps off the couch. “Fuck you both.”

They’d known. They’d both known and kept it from him. Did everyone know, did everyone know what a giant idiot Tony was for not seeing it? Did Natasha pity him? Did Clint shake his head? Did Sam just think Tony was a right dumbass for not noticing? Did _all_ of their friends know?

“He swore to me it was done,” Bucky pleads. “Or I never would’ve -”

“Was it Sharon?” Tony interrupts. “Was it Sharon? And for that matter, was it _only_ Sharon. God, how many were there?”

“I - he didn’t say her name,” Bucky answers slowly. “Only once, Tony. I promise. Someone from work.”

“A consultant on a project awhile back,” Tony fills in. It was Sharon. Sharon who he had giggled over crushes with in middle school, who he’d traded kissing stories with in high school, who he’d hung out with at those summer barbeques and holiday get togethers until Tony finally got old enough to ditch them without consequences.

Did Sharon know? No, she couldn’t have. Sharon wouldn’t have done that, right? Not to Tony, at least, she couldn’t have known Steve had been seeing _Tony_.

Bucky swallows. “Something like that.”

“God,” Tony breathes out. He whips around so Bucky won’t see the tears in his eyes that are starting to build up.

He should’ve known. He should’ve known. He’s a Goddamn idiot; he should’ve _known_.

“I’m sorry. Tony, I’m so sorry,” Bucky starts.

“Get out,” Tony whispers, before he strides to his bedroom and slams the door shut.

Tony says much the same the next time he sees Steve. He doesn’t want to see Steve or Bucky, or talk to either of them, or talk to the entire friend group they’d had because everyone knew what a Goddamn idiot Tony had been.

Not really. Natasha had clarified that point - no one but Steve and Bucky had known, but Tony still feels stupid and he really, really hates feeling stupid.

Tony can’t even talk to Steve enough to fully break up with him.

“Do you want to?” Rhodey asks, in the fifteen minute break that he has to solve Tony’s problems before Rhodey has to go keep the world safe. Or something of equal importance, with Rhodey being away on a classified military detail of some sort. “No judgement, Tones. I just want you happy.”

“I don’t know,” Tony whines, and he sounds like he’s five years old again and hates himself. “I don’t know. I’m supposed to, aren’t I? That’s the smart move.”

Rhodey sighs. “Can you trust him again? That’s the thing. If you can move past this together, that’s cool. I’m not going to judge you, you hear?”

Tony relaxes at that, because Rhodey is the best.

“You don’t even have to forgive him, not right now. You need a break to figure that out at least,” Rhodey continues on, his voice soothing. “I know you love him, Tones. If you think you can trust him again, you do what’s right for you.”

“You won’t hold it against him?” Tony presses.

“Oh I _definitely_ will,” Rhodey replies. “I’m not going to forget, and don’t fool yourself - you won’t either. If you can work past this together though, I’ll stand back and wish you luck. You have my support, okay? But if you can’t - and honestly, Tones, most people can’t, okay - then better to cut him now than later.”

Tony sighs, a long drawn out breath. “So much wisdom trapped inside one platypus.”

“We’re also getting trashed the next time I’m on leave, so schedule that in right now.”

“Already done. Go save the world.”

Tony thinks he could accept that Steve cheated on him… he thinks. Or at least he thinks he could, maybe, if only he had known.

Because that’s the thing - Tony hadn’t even suspected. Weren’t there always red flags in these situations? Tony hadn’t seen them, and even looking back… there had been nothing to give Steve’s affair away. Steve worked late some nights, but that was normal for his schedule full of deadlines. There hadn’t been any suspicious texting or withdrawals or anything that Tony figured would be signs of Steve’s cheating. That project had been like all the others, and unless Steve is just constantly having affairs…

But Bucky wouldn’t have lied to him, right? Not about that. Bucky hadn’t told Tony, had wanted Steve to tell Tony, but Bucky wouldn’t have straight up lied about the number of times Steve cheated, would he?

Maybe if Tony could have known, could have read the signs, then he could get past it. If Tony could only know _when_ Steve is cheating, then maybe Tony could accept it.

Only Steve swears he’ll never do it again, and so if he does then he’ll go to equal lengths to hide it from Tony. Which means Tony won’t be able to guess, won’t have clues to figure it out. Tony will be the idiot boyfriend left standing on the curb when Steve drives away with his new partner, not even realizing there had been anything wrong with his relationship.

That, Tony can’t handle.

“I can’t,” Tony tells Steve, eyes shining with tears but not letting them fall yet. “We’re done. I can’t.”

“I understand,” Steve whispers, face pained. “But Tony, I am so, so sorry. I do love you.”

Tony swallows his return phrase of ‘I love you.’ It’s true, but it’s not enough.

“I believe you,” is all Tony can offer, and then Tony walks away.


	2. Chapter 2

Enough people are crammed into Revengers to make a fire marshall angry, Bucky is sure. Still, he follows Sam through the crowd to get space at the bar to order some drinks.

“Is there something happening tonight?” Bucky shouts in Sam’s ear.

Sam shrugs. “Football?” he calls back as he tries to slither through the crowd.

Bucky shakes his head. There’s not enough people wearing jerseys for it to be the entire explanation, but it probably doesn’t matter much. Clearly they’re going to fight their way through the crowd for these drinks anyway.

It’s almost better, honestly. Bucky is tired of fragile silences, and in this bar he can barely hear himself think. He doesn’t have to think about what he’s said, what he’s not said, and can simply toss back the drink that Sam hands him.

“It’s Saturday, have at it,” Sam tells Bucky as he signals for a second round. “But you’re getting the next round.”

Bucky gets the next, and the next. He pulls ahead of Sam’s number of drinks, can feel Sam’s watchful eyes on him, but Bucky keeps drinking enough to forget why Sam is being careful around him.

Bucky hates fighting with Steve. He always does. It doesn’t stop Bucky, never really has, but he hates the anger and the frustration and resentment until they come back together as friends again. And Bucky had said some stupid shit, not even important, just picking a fight with Steve about Steve’s work deadlines or something because Bucky couldn’t handle Steve’s moping today. Bucky doesn’t even know why, just woke up in a mood, and now he’s set Steve off again and…

Better that Sam took him out for a drink or three than to stay cooped up in that apartment.

Still, Bucky is thinking about it. “Bathroom,” he signals to Sam just to get out of Sam’s focus.

Pushing his way through the crowd, Bucky heads back up to the bar for another drink instead.

“Bucky?” someone calls.

“Tony? Tony!” Bucky realizes, elbowing past two more people to come face to face with Tony.

Bucky hasn’t seen Tony in months, not since that day where Tony asked Bucky about Steve cheating. They’d texted a few times, but Bucky didn’t know how to keep their friendship given what happened with Steve.

Given that Bucky had hid it from Tony.

“I’ve missed you,” Bucky breathes because it’s true. He takes in Tony, and Tony looks good. Messy hair and bright eyes, jeans tight against that round ass - Tony looks fantastic, rather than moping like Steve tends to do on weekends.

Weekends where the three of them usually went out together, or sometimes stayed in and split a couple of pizzas.

Bucky shoves that thought aside.

“God, me too,” Tony says with a smile.

A genuine one. Tony is smiling at him again, and Bucky’s knees go weak with relief. Then Tony leans forward for a hug and Bucky returns it.

“Come on,” Tony beckons as he tugs Bucky forward. “Drink with me! Just like old times. Rhodey… where’d Rhodey go? Help me find Rhodey.”

Bucky laughs and follows Tony.

They find the bar first. One drink turns into two, turns into three, turns into Bucky losing count. Bucky loses track of trying to find Rhodey, forgets that he’s left Sam somewhere, ignores that he’s talking to Steve’s ex. He remembers Tony’s bright brown eyes, the way Tony gestures with his hands as he talks, the grin that lights up Tony’s face. He remembers the feeling of Tony whispering “My place?” in his ear and the heat rushing through his body at the thought.

Bucky remembers growling, “Yes,” and keeping a hand in the back pocket of Tony’s jeans as they leave.

The rest gets hazy. Bucky remembers stripping his shirt off. He remembers grabbing handfuls of Tony’s perfect, bare ass. He remembers sheets scratching against his back and Tony pressing against his front as fire consumes him, Bucky thrusting without grace up into Tony’s fist. He remembers the slick, welcoming heat of Tony’s mouth against his, the bite of Tony’s teeth against his neck, the sounds of Tony’s gasps when Bucky touches him.

He remembers the heavy press of Tony’s weight when Tony collapses on top of him. 

Bucky remembers thinking finally, _finally_ \- and that the reality was better than he’d ever dreamed.

Bucky has a good dream. It’s of Tony, as they usually are - Bucky might’ve been able to control who he jerked off to when awake, but he couldn’t control his dreams. This one is of Tony’s mouth, warm and wet and delicious, teasing him as Tony kisses and licks his way down Bucky’s stomach until Tony slowly teases down the length of Bucky’s cock.

Bucky is hard, aching with it, whining as Tony teases, the tight grip of his throat slowly taking Bucky in. Bucky’s hips jerk up, needing more, and Tony’s hands press down on Bucky’s hips to keep him still.

The heat, the pressure - Bucky is sweating, aching. He gasps himself awake.

Tony is above him, hands on Bucky’s hips as Tony slowly sinks his ass down onto Bucky’s cock.

“Tony,” Bucky gasps, arching back as Tony takes him in. Bucky balances on the edge of the dream, not sure which one is real, just knowing that he’s drowning in the heat bubbling underneath his skin.

“Oh that’s good,” Tony whispers hoarsely, throwing his head back as he finally settles completely onto Bucky’s cock. Tony swivels his hips, sending sparks of pleasure through Bucky’s cock. “So good.”

“Tony,” Bucky groans again, scrambling at the sheets.

His head pounds, his throat dry, but heat is boiling in his groin. Bucky’s control can’t even snap - he doesn’t have any to begin with, not this morning, not the way he’s woken up, and he simply thrusts up.

Tony yelps, falling onto Bucky’s chest, but Bucky stabilizes Tony’s hips as Bucky gets his feet under him. Now, with leverage, Bucky fucks up into Tony with abandon.

Tony cries out, leaning back against Bucky’s knees as he jerks his own cock.

Bucky switches between watching Tony’s face, thrown back in pleasure, to Tony’s hand on himself, to the way that Tony’s ass slams down onto Bucky’s cock. It’s too much and it’s not enough, and Bucky doesn’t feel awake enough to take in everything that he wants to as Tony’s ass grips him, as Tony’s thighs squeeze his hips, as Tony calls out his name.

“Bucky, Bucky,” Tony gasps, and that’s when the heat in Bucky’s skin boils over.

Bucky fucks up into Tony hard, slamming them together until Bucky loses it. He comes gasping Tony’s name, eyes rolling back in his head as he spills into Tony.

Tony keeps going, fucking himself onto Bucky’s cock as he fucks his own fist. He spasms, thighs tightening on Bucky’s hips, and then Bucky watches, enthralled, as Tony tips his head back and comes.

Gorgeous, Bucky thinks, as his eyelids grow heavy. Fucking gorgeous. He tugs Tony down so Bucky can kiss those lips even as Tony still pants for air. Tony’s eyes are glazed, and Bucky uses his remaining energy to smile up at him.

“Mornin’,” Bucky whispers as Tony slides off of him.

Bucky wraps his arm around Tony’s waist to keep him close and then falls back asleep.

Bucky wakes up alone. He bites his lip, a spike of anxiety shooting through him, before he hears the sputtering of the coffee machine from the kitchen.

Bucky sighs in relief and tugs on his boxers.

“Afternoon,” Bucky greets when he wanders into the kitchen. He leans against the countertop with a smile, taking in Tony’s mess of hair and Tony’s intense focus on the coffee machine as it drips. Tony had only pulled on a pair of sweats, and Bucky smirks as he sees red marks on Tony’s hips, knowing he was the one who put them there.

“Still morning,” Tony corrects, not looking away from the coffee machine.

Bucky rolls his eyes, getting another look at the clock. “Almost afternoon, then,” he corrects. “Still make you pancakes, if you want ‘em. Doesn’t matter to me what time it is,” Bucky says as he pushes himself off the counter and starts rummaging through Tony’s cabinets. “Unless you want waffles, but that depends on if you bothered to clean your waffle iron since last time.”

Bucky turns around, a box of mix in hand, to see Tony clutching his full coffee cup defensively and not able to look Bucky in the eye.

“Tony?” Bucky asks, hands clenching around the box. The spike of alarm from this morning comes back, times ten. “You alright?”

Tony closes his eyes, then looks at Bucky’s chest. “I… I shouldn’t have done that. This. We shouldn’t - it’s my fault, okay, it’s not on you, it’s on me, and I shouldn’t have…”

“Wait, what?” Bucky asks, his throat drying up. He abandons his box of pancake - or waffle - mix on the counter to grab a glass of water. He chugs it straight. “What do you mean?” he gasps.

Tony takes a deep breath. “I used you,” he states. “That’s what this was.”

Bucky’s stomach drops out. He swallows. “To get at Steve,” he finishes softly.

Tony doesn’t meet Bucky’s gaze.

“Oh.”

Bucky stares for too long at the grain in Tony’s wooden floors. His fingers tingle with pinpricks of pain. He feels light-headed, everything rushing past him even as he’s stuck in this moment.

Tony only slept with him to get revenge on Steve. Bucky maybe should’ve seen it, but he hadn’t.

Bucky had been too stupidly excited to play pretend, to think that Tony actually liked him. That maybe, just maybe, Tony Stark returned Bucky’s feelings.

“It’s all on me,” Tony presses. “All of it, okay? It’s not your fault, you were drunk and I manipulated -”

“Fuck you, Tony,” Bucky shouts, too loud. Tony flinches back, and Bucky uses his anger at himself to steamroll over his guilt. “Just shut up. I know what I did, okay? I slept with my best friend’s ex-boyfriend. No amount of excuses you give me is going to fix that, because I’m the fucking lowlife that _wanted_ it, alright?”

Because Tony wanting revenge on Steve makes sense. It’s months later than Bucky would’ve expected it, sure, but Steve was still moping around after Tony so maybe not. Still, at least it makes sense.

But Bucky had slept with Tony because he wanted to. Bucky had slept with Tony and enjoyed it, had slept with Tony _twice_. And no matter how Tony wanted to put it, Bucky had fucking wanted it and had even hoped for more.

He’s a fucking idiot and a terrible friend.

“You - you wanted,” Tony whispers, his voice hoarse.

“Fuck this,” Bucky says, his guilt swallowing him. He stomps back to the bedroom to put on the rest of his clothes.

Tony follows him. “For how long?”

Bucky snarls. “What does it fucking matter?”

Tony blocks the doorway to his bedroom, keeping Bucky trapped inside as he punches his legs into his jeans.

“Tell me,” Tony orders.

Bucky clenches his jaw shut. He’s humiliated himself enough this morning - hell, in the past twenty-four hours. He doesn’t need to flay himself open in front of Tony... because Bucky had wanted Tony for an embarrassing long time, and Bucky doesn’t even want to admit how long to _himself_.

“Bucky… we were friends, right?”

Bucky snorts. “‘Were.’ I guess that says it all right there.”

Tony slams his fist into the doorway, and Bucky jerks up from buckling his pants. When Tony looks at Bucky, his eyes are wide and shiny.

“Damn it, Barnes. I did it,” Tony starts, voice rough, “because I was going to lose you anyway.”

“You weren’t going to-”

“You picked Steve!” Tony interrupts. “You picked Steve, when you didn’t tell me. You were gone. I lost him, and I lost _you_ , and I - I can’t, okay? I fucking miss you, alright, and I couldn’t - I couldn’t let you go last night and I -”

Bucky’s chest aches, too many emotions swirling around inside of him. He doesn’t know what to think, what to believe. Doesn’t know what he should do, piled onto the mistakes that he’s already made, what he’s already done.

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispers.

Bucky takes a breath, then another. He grabs his shirt and puts it on. Only then does he have the courage to look at Tony. “I’m sorry, too.”

Bucky heads for Tony, who steps aside to let Bucky pass. Bucky stops in the doorway, so close to Tony that his skin is buzzing.

Tony stares up at him with wide eyes, pleading - and fucking hell, Bucky has missed Tony. Bucky has already let Steve down, he might as well go all in.

“Ask me to stay,” Bucky pleads. “Ask me to stay and I will. I don’t care if we talk this out or if we play pretend and ignore everything… like just watch the news or something.”

Tony reaches out and puts a hand on Bucky’s chest, as if Bucky might run away regardless.

“Stay,” Tony asks.

Bucky’s lips twist into a smile. “Pancakes or waffles?”

**Author's Note:**

> I had Steve mess up here in this fic because I wanted to use the close-knit relationship between him and Bucky. But I like Steve, actually, so please no Steve bashing in the comments. Thank you <3


End file.
